


Sure, Whatever

by Pforte



Category: Homeland
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Extended Scene, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pforte/pseuds/Pforte
Summary: After the most awkward hug-turned-grope of the year, Carrie does not run off immediately and actually tries to get to the bottom of the most essential question of season six - to shower or not to shower? - by doing something as revolutionary as having a conversation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Extended scene. Extended comment fic. There is a theme.
> 
> Written for a prompt by Laure001 at homelandstuff on LJ: What happens if she does say no but in another way?

‘Just breathe.’ 

She felt his hand pushing up her shirt, sliding underneath, felt it hot and clammy against her skin. A shuddery exhale, maybe his, probably hers. This felt wrong. He was so tense, had been screaming like a wounded animal less than a minute ago. 

`No,’ she said, still hesitant, surprised. ‘No, Quinn.’ He continued, pressed her closer, all but palming her breast, and worry turned into disbelief. ‘No, come on, Quinn? What are you doing?’ Forceful, accusatory, as she jumped back and looked down at him. 

‘I thought you were…’ he tried. 

‘No, I wasn’t,’ Carrie interrupted. She felt betrayed, probably looked it. How could he? Why would he? 

‘Oh shit!’ he cursed and looked away. 

A new voice made her spin on her heels and rush out of the room. ‘Mommy!’ 

‘Hey sweetheart? Go back upstairs, okay?’ Carrie encouraged her daughter, distraught at what she may have heard and nearly walked in on. ‘Go on, Mommy’ll be right there!” she pressed. Carrie’s eyes followed her daughter as Frannie turned around and walked up the stairs. Good girl, Carrie thought, her mind spinning. 

Love for her daughter was easy. She just felt it, no questions asked. But it had not always been like this, easy, natural. Quinn had helped, had pushed and needled, and now he needed her. Yet he rejected all her efforts, making Carrie acutely aware that she was not her sister. But she had lived it, right? How hard could it be? She had learnt fast enough with Frannie. If only he wasn’t so…

And now this. His closeness, his boldness had thrown her. It had been months since a man had touched her like this, with purpose, and Quinn had never… What had he been thinking? That she would take pity on him like his whores, make it all better with a fuck? That he needed to prove something to her? Had he even known that it was her? 

As she returned to the room, he lay on his back, face to the window. ‘Okay, Quinn?’ No reaction. ‘You’re coming down from a lot of medication, I get that. But if you’re gonna be living in my home with me and my daughter…’ 

She trailed off, really looked at him, lying there, unable to face her. He’s mortified, she realized. 

Her phone vibrated and Carrie’s instinct told her to answer it. Instead she approached the bed. Carefully, slowly, she lowered herself and sat down. 

‘Quinn, we should talk about this.’ Still nothing. She took a deep breath, tried a well-used method. ‘Please?’

‘Go ‘way, Carrie.’ 

The buzzing got on her nerves. She took out her phone and rejected the caller. ‘I will. After we talked about this.’

‘What do you want me to say?’ he asked slowly, eyes fixed on something outside the building. ‘It won’t happen ‘gain. Okay?’

‘I don’t care about that,’ she said and meant it. ‘What was your dream about?’

‘Oh, you don’t caaaare?’

‘For God’s sake, Quinn! Can’t you just?’ she tried, failed, frustrated. Did he not know how difficult this was for her? ‘I am trying, okay?’

He turned his head to look at her, still wary and guarded, face twisted with self-loathing. She had never been able to read him so easily and he had never misread a situation so badly, she thought and felt pity. He would hate me for this, she knew. 

‘Shower. It was about the shower,’ he said at last and looked away immediately. 

‘What about it?’ she asked, nonplussed. Was he still lucid?

‘It’s…’ He shrugged, one-sided, swallowed hard. ‘It’s. I couldn’t get out and I couldn’t fucking _breathe_.’

She frowned at him. What? Why wouldn’t he…. _oh_! Oh shit. 

‘Oh.’ 

He shrugged again, awkward, and grimaced. She thought about what to say when her phone started to vibrate again and her daughter’s voice came from upstairs. ‘Mooommy, we’re going to be late!’

‘Okay. Listen, we’re going to find a way to get you clean because, really, you stink and I can’t have you meet Frannie like this.’ She remembered the girl’s drawing and had to clear her vision. Did she want him to meet Frannie? She did, yes. Probably. ‘I….I need to go and I’ll be out all day but, Quinn, we’ll find a way, okay?’ She tried for a reassuring smile and saw it reflected in his sad grimace. 

‘Sure, whatever.’ 

‘No, Quinn.’ She reached out, squeezed his hand. He tried to pull back but she stopped him by sliding her thumb up and down his palm, like she had done so many times before. _Before._ ‘I have a bathtub upstairs. It’ll be fine.’ He nodded jerkily. To get in, he would need help, she considered, shying away from the implications. That was a problem for later. 

Carrie let go of his hand and got up. It was easy to withdraw from him because he could not, would not follow. 

‘And I’m not mad,’ she said from the door. ‘Do you want me to call Max?’ she added, almost as an afterthought.

‘No, I don’t need a babysitter,’ he replied querulously but his next attempt at a smile made her heart ache. 

‘All right. Bye.’ She had to stop herself from taking two steps at once. It was a relief to get away, if only because she did not know what to do with him when he was himself and wasn’t, desired like a man with the impulsivity of a child, his eyes going in and out of focus as though the old Quinn was trying to get through but could not quite reach the surface. 

She missed him. Was it so wrong to want him back, bit by bit?

Upstairs, Carrie forced a smile and reached for her coat. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart!’ The look on her daughter’s face told her that Frannie had more questions and would ask them soon. 

Walking out of the door, she still felt the ghost of his hand on her back, shivered, and pushed the memory away.

 

_Fin_


End file.
